Redemption
by piddimizer21
Summary: Warning: Contains some graphic subject matter. A plot is brewing in the capitol. An old enemy returns and a new one is born. It's a race against time. Lives will be lost. It's a Redemption. Please RR
1. Chapter 1

The room was white. Everything was white. The table, chairs and walls. The light buzzing overhead was fluorescent. Exactly the right kind to give someone a splitting headache. In fact it was giving someone a headache. Sitting on one side of the table, just in front of a giant mirror, was a man dressed in a black suit and tie and actually was the only thing contrasting the white. He was staring at a female. In front of him, was a folder opened up to the center. He was constantly rummaging through the papers and photos as he continued to occasionally glance at the female in front of him.

She sat motionless. Her brunette hair resting softly on her shoulder on her side. Her leg was up, protruding from the white gown she was wearing. This type of gown was not uncommon, though it was normally used for hospital patients. Despite the dark circles around her eyes and the few bruises and scratches on her arms and face, she was extremely attractive. Her eyes were staring right back at the man in front of her. She watched him shift his eyes to her legs as she followed his gaze down. Even though he hadn't said a word, she knew what he was looking at. She didn't care. It wasn't her fault all she had on was her gown. She kept her eyes on his as they kept staring at the open section between the gown and her legs.

The man looked back up at her and quickly shifted his eyes to meet hers. He didn't care. He just looked at her smugly and flicked a small grin. He took a sip of his coffee and began to look at more files and photos. He put one of the photos down and looked back her again. This time, he spoke.

"I really don't understand why you aren't being more cooperative with us. If you would just answer the questions, you can get back to your room. Possibly even let out of here. But I assure you that until you do, you aren't going to be going anywhere." He said staring at her deeply. You might say there was a look of concern in his eyes, but never the less, this was his job. Putting on a face was what this man was all about.

The female just stared blankly at him. The man turned around looking at the giant mirror, and just shook his head. He turned back around to face her. When he did, she moved both of her legs up to the chair this time, exposing again the spot that the man quickly placed his gaze upon. The female noticed instantly and just smiled. 'What is she playing at?' the man thought to himself. 'Is this just some ploy to keep her from talking?' The woman put her legs down now and leaned into the table.

"If you aren't going to be of any help, we might as well have the orderlies come back in here and help you back to your room. That is, if you want to spend another night of being constantly bound and drugged. Then again, if you help me, I can help you." He paused. "Seriously Miss Redfield, this isn't some kind of game. Someone's life is at stake and if you don't help us then…" He was cut off by a raspy voice.

"What did you say your name was again?" The voice said.

"Clinton Portis." The man answered back, shocked.

"Who did you say you worked for again?" The voice said again. This time sounding more clearer.

"Miss Redfield, I really don't like having to repeat myself. As I stated when I entered the room, I work for the CIA. I'm here because we have reason to believe that you know the whereabouts of Sherry Birkin and your brother Chris Redfield." He said but was cut off by some giggling.

"You won't find either one of them." She said.

Claire Redfield had seen better days. In fact she had seen better months. But as she sat there looking at the man in front of her, all she could think about doing was laughing.

"Why do you say that?" Portis asked her.

"Because, if you can't find them there are only two things that could have happened." Claire answered still giggling.

"Dare I ask what you mean by that?" Clinton asked again, this time being more intuitive.

"If you can't find them, then they're either already being held captive by Umbrella or…" she trailed off for a second.

"Or…Or what?"

"Or they are both already dead. But then again, if the CIA was so interested in finding them, surely you would know if they were dead. You wouldn't be supposedly wanting my help. Unless…" She paused.

"Unless what, Miss Redfield?" Portis asked intently.

"Do you have any cigarettes?" She asked him.

Portis took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his coat pocket and slid them over to her. Claire reached for them and lit one up. She inhaled and blew out the smoke in to his eyes.

"Unless what. Are you going to tell me?" Clinton asked again, this time getting a little more angry with her.

"Unless there is another reason as to why you are here. Don't think I don't know how far the federal government's pocket book goes. I'm not that stupid." She paused again to take another drag. "Umbrella doesn't give up that easily." She said flicking her ash on the floor.

"Claire, really. By now you should surely know that the Umbrella Corporation is no longer around. The government cut there funding. Despite so called radicallistic movements, there is no more Umbrella. I can assure you of that." Portis said sipping his coffee. His tone was getting sterner now.

"You really think you know everything don't you Claire?" he said.

Claire just looked at him. Despite the feelings in her gut, she knew what he said was true. It was only till a few months ago that she had heard about Leon's escapade in Europe involving the Presidents daughter. She knew Umbrella was no more, but something deep down inside her was telling her that they were still around. She knew that Chris still had an unsettled score with someone she had never met, only someone she had heard him talk about, Albert Wesker.

Oh yes, Chris had explained everything to her about the incident in the Arklay Mountains in 1998 involving S.T.A.R.S. and Wesker. Wesker had sold out his comrades. Put Chris's life as well as others in danger. It was only just a day after the incident when she came looking for him. That was when she met Leon and happened to fall headfirst into a conspiracy involving Raccoon City and what was then, the thriving business known as Umbrella Corp. Shortly after that, six months or so, she was caught invading the Paris branch of Umbrella. After being captured and sent to Rockfort Island, she was able to escape and uncover the truth of the Ashford family and Umbrella. It wasn't until being caught again trying to disrupt Umbrella's apparent rise to power again, she was whisked away to the insane asylum where she now sits, in Seattle Washington.

"So, Claire." Portis started again, "are you going to help me out here or am I just chasing a dead rabbit?"

"What exactly do you think I could possibly know?" She asked again, this time flicking the cigarette on the floor and quickly lighting up another one.

"Where is Sherry Birkin and your brother?" Portis asked again.

"I told you, if they aren't dead already, then they have been captured and are about to be dead." She said with no remorse.

"Perhaps I could use other methods. You do know I can make you talk if I want too, right?" he said threateningly.

"Seriously Mr. Portis, If you had planned on drugging me, you would have already done so." She said smiling.

"Perhaps, I already have." He said smiling evilly now as he glanced over to the pack of cigarettes. Claire turns her eyes from his to the pack as well. She looks down at them and then back to the one she is holding. She stares at it for a few moments and her head starts to spin. The light from her smoke starts getting fuzzy and she begins to see tracers. Everything is moving slower now as she fights to keep her head from falling down. Her eyes are getting extremely heavy. She can make out laughter that is now somehow echoing in her brain. She slowly looks up at Portis, who is now walking over to her.

"Wh…what…did…did you do…to me." Claire mumbles.

"Clearly Claire, you don't think that a man of my stature would not come prepared. Since I figured it would be dangerous to let them bring you hot coffee, for fear of you burning me, I was able to lace those cigarettes." He said chuckling. "But then again, how could you, poor little Claire Redfield had caught on. Of course, perhaps you haven't thought of everything." He finished. He turned her chair around to face him.

Fighting to stay awake, Claire was now looking straight at Clinton, her head feeling light as a feather. Portis had pulled his seat over to face her and placed his hands on the armrests of her chair. He was looking deep into her eyes. He was staring menacingly at her for a moment before he spoke.

"Now, are you going to cooperate with me?" He asked her.

"Yes." Claire answered softly.

"Good." Portis said. He was now looking down at Claire's legs again. This time, though, he moved his hands down onto her legs and slowly moved them apart.

"Claire, we are going to play a little game. Every time I think you are lying to me, I move my hands up your legs. If I think you are telling the truth, I move my hands the opposite direction. If my hands get to there final destination, something very, very bad will happen. Let's just hope that you tell me everything I want to know. Understood?" He said moving his hand up slowly.

"Yes." Claire said, weeping.

"Good. Now tell me why you were brought here." Portis asked.

Claire let out a sob and looked directly Portis. As much as she could anyway. The drug had taken full affect over her. She sat there for a few moments and said nothing. Until she felt his hands move up her legs again, closer she spoke.

"6 months ago." She said softly.

"6 moths ago. Ok, why?" Portis asked again.

"I was caught snooping around an abandoned Umbrella facility. I had reason to believe that it was still being used as a training facility."

"A training facility for what, Claire?" He asked her, staring deep into her eyes, moving his hands up slowly again.

"For Bio-Mechanical Weapons. A tip-off from an undisclosed source said that despite Umbrella going bankrupt, they were being backed by an unknown organization. They were still producing. I went alone to stop it." She said looking at him hazily.

"Then what happened?"

"The informant, turned out to be fake. It was a trap. To lure me and my brother and the others out of hiding for some unknown reason. It worked." Claire answered, a tear building up in her eye.

"You don't know the reason?" Portis asked, moving his hands up slowly again.

"No…please…don't." Claire stammered, choking up. She could feel his hand getting closer now. She was scared. There was no telling what he was planning to do. Even in her drugged state, she didn't want to be touched like that. Not in this way.

"Claire, tell me or I get closer." Portis said quietly.

"As…as far as we knew, the federal government wanted us for questioning about the incidents in Raccoon City, Paris and Rockfort Island. Initially, it was a placed cover-up, until a government official was murdered." Claire said quietly.

"Yes, Senator Denton. He was very well known for his support in state of the art bio-weaponry. So it wasn't you that killed him?" He asked her.

"No, I had nothing to do with it. None of us did."

"I'm curious, when you refer to 'us' and 'we' are you talking about…" he was cut off by her answer.

"Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveria and Rebecca Chambers." Claire answered quickly, hoping his hands would move back.

"I see. Do you know where they are?" Portis asked, this time moving his hands back, like he had promised.

"No, I haven't seen them since the night I was captured and brought here." Claire said relieved that his hands had moved away from her slightly.

"I don't believe you. I think they are hiding with Chris and Sherry." Portis said, moving his hands back up again, this time closer. Only a few more inches to go and he was there. You can't say that he wasn't pleased at this. Deep down, this is what he wanted. He didn't care if it was sick and twisted, he liked this. This wasn't the first time he had done this either. He remembered a few months ago doing the same thing to another young woman. Drugging her to get what he needed and getting what else he needed while she was still drugged. This was what he did, and he thought he was damn good at it.

"Please, don't touch me like that." Claire pleaded with him. He was extremely closer now and it wouldn't be too long before he was there.

"Then tell me what I want to know. Where are the others? Where is your brother and Sherry Birkin? Where is Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveria and Rebecca Chambers? Why were you the only one captured?" He asked finally.

"I…I…was captured because I…I…had tried to destroy the building. I must have set off a silent alarm. They knew I was coming. The informant, as I said, was fake, I was trapped, tricked, framed for murdering Senator Denton." She said.

"The others then?" He asked getting his hand ready for one final movement.

"I don't…know where they are." She said, this time, tears falling from her eyes. With that, she felt his hands touch her. They reached their destination. She let out cry and began crying harder. It didn't feel good. It didn't hurt either. She didn't like it. She was being defiled. She wanted to stop, but there was nothing she could do. Claire, for the first time in her life, was completely helpless.

"Tell me Claire, just tell me and I can stop this. That is…if you want me to stop. I must confess it will be kind of hard. It is an incredible sensation, I must say." Portis said sadistically.

"You pervert!' Claire screamed at him. She tried to move but the drug had too much control over her.

"Tell me Claire!" Portis said, his eyes changing from dark brown to bright red. Claire saw this and started to cry harder. She was freaked out. She had seen this before. No, she hadn't, but Chris had. He explained it to her. They were the same as…as…Weskers! 'He's here isn't he!' she thought shocked. 'He's watching me right now through that mirror. Enjoying every bit of it! That sadistic prick!'

"Claire, if you don't tell me, this will get a whole lot worse…" Portis's voice trailed off in astonishment. He felt something different. Something that brought a smile to his face. Claire noticed this and tried to move. He quickly moved his fingers again and it made her yelp.

"Now, I don't think you will want to make this situation get any worse than it already is." He started as he lifted up his other free hand in front of her face. She looked at his hand and his fingernails began growing. They stopped about six inches from the tips of his skin. "Impressive, isn't it. In case you happen to be wondering, I can do it with both hands so if you don't want things to get messy in here, you better tell me where your friends are." He said this time more menacing than ever.

"Just please stop, I will tell you all I know." She gasped as she felt something scrape quickly inside her.

"Well?" Portis asked, his red eyes blazing now.

"Steve's Bar." She spat.

"Steve's Bar?" Portis asked confused. "Are you lying to me?" Claire let out a loud scream and yelled back at him with all she had.

"No you little fuck! All I know is Steve's Bar! Now get your fucking hands out of me right now!" She said trying to move.

"Not until you tell me where the hell it is!" he fired back at her, this time slowly making his nails reduce in size.

"It's here…here in Washington." She said crying more profusely now.

"Thank you dear. Pity that I have to stop. Someone will be extremely happy to know this." He said getting up and grabbing a handkerchief out of his inside coat pocket and wiping his hands off. He stood up and walked behind Claire, she was still crying. Portis lowered his head down behind hers and began to inhale her fumes.

"I know something about you, that some people here don't. But they will find out sooner or later. Thank you for the information. I know I promised if you cooperated I could get you out of here. Well you see…I lied. Forgive me." He finished as he kissed the back of her neck and then licked her cheek.

"You…you don't know it yet, but you are already dead." Claire retorted, as strongly as she could.

"Please Claire, I don't think there is anything you can do about the present situation." Portis replied as he grabbed his file and walked out the door. Claire sat there, her head falling down and she began to weep as she slowly passed out.

Portis had walked from the room with Claire into the viewing room immediately. Inside was a familiar person with a familiar voice. He looked at Portis with the same red eyes behind his black sunglasses.

"Was that really necessary?" Said the voice.

"It got it out of her didn't it?" Portis replied.  
"Need I remind you, that we are under strict orders that she was not to be touched or harmed in anyway? Or did you forget that?" The asked him.

"I knew exactly what I was doing" Portis replied.

"Fine, but know this, step out of line again and it will be the last time. I won't hesitate to kill you." The voice started, "Now, try to locate this bar Claire spoke of immediately. I have some unfinished business to take care of." He said.

Portis began to walk out the door. He stopped and put on a pair of black sunglasses and moved his head to one side until a loud crack was heard coming from his neck. He did the same to the other and then turned his head towards the man.

"Fine. Oh and Wesker?" Portis said.

"Yes?" He replied.

"Tell the boss, Redfield's pregnant." Portis said as he walked out the door leaving the silhouetted figure of Albert Wesker standing in front of the mirror looking in as the unconscious Claire is being carried out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

_6 months earlier shortly after Claire's capture…._

The cellar was damp and smelled of mold. The lights barely worked when you turned them on. That was probably the reason why nobody liked going down there. But it was the only way you could get down and change the fuses in the breaker box. There was no telling what nasty, creepy and crawly things you would find down there if you actually had a full working bright light. But, it was best that nobody thought of it when they were down there. As you walked down the wooden steps, the boards would creek and crack, which was not unlikely for old stairs like these, but still, they made one feel like you would fall through any second.

The door to the cellar opened and the thud of footsteps came slowly treading down the stairs. The person flipped the switch at the bottom of the stairs and the lights flickered on dimly. Continuing forward, the shadow of the person could be seen on the walls just barely and one could make out the shapely and sexy figure of a female as she turned the corner slowly. She stopped in front of a metal box and opened it. Rebecaa Chambers, former member of S.T.A.R.S. was standing there with a flashlight, looking at the panel. She felt something land in her hair and she quickly brushed it off.

"I hate this place." She exclaimed as she turned her attention back to the circuit breaker. She followed the chart down to the correct breaker and pulled out a fuse. She then, after reaching into her pants pocket, placed the new one in and turned the switch in the on position. Up above her she could hear joyous applause coming from everywhere as she shut the panel door and turned back around. Just as she turned around she screamed as she came face to face with an attractive, but rather inebriated gentleman.

"AH!" She yelled. "Dammit, Randy! You know you aren't allowed down here!" she finished as she caught her breath.

"But, I thought you wanted me to follow you down here. You know, for a little…alone time?" Randy said as he let out a small burp. Rebecca just stared at him and made a face.

"You're drunk. You reek of booze. Go back upstairs and drink some water." She said to him as she pointed towards the stairs and quickly took off towards them herself. She made her way back up the stairs, followed quickly by Randy and then shut the door as he walked back out down the hall and into the bar. Rebecca stopped by a window and looked out that rain that was pouring down.

"Cow peein' on a flat rock." She said jokingly as she turned back around and walked to the bar.

The bar was filled to the brim with people. At one end, there was a table of people, who were downing pitchers of beer as fast as the server could bring them. They were chanting and yelling, enjoying there evening after a long drawn out city-league basketball game. Off to there right, a couple were happily selecting songs from the old beat up jukebox. It had seen its wear and tear. Then again, if you constantly had beer and booze spilled all over you, bottles broken against your side and people thrown into you, you wouldn't look too good either. Down at the other end, people were enjoying games of pool and darts. But at one table, sat a group of 3 people, 2 females and one male. They were talking rather quietly and motioned for Rebecca to come over to there table for a few minutes. She gladly obliged, stopping by the counter to pick up a few glasses of beer. She stopped at the table in the midst of the patrons conversation.

"How long has it been?" asked one female.

"Almost 3 weeks." Answered the other.

"Still no sign nor word from her. I'm starting to get really worried. It isn't like her to just dissapear like that." The male said.

"Don't worry Chris," Jill said. "She's probably just wanting some alone time. God knows how long it's been since she has seen Leon." She finished.

Jill just looked at Chris and then at Sherry who was trying to hide a blushing face. Chris looked over at Sherry, who was nursing her beer and smiled. Sherry was still single. She hadn't had a relationship in a long time and he could see the way she looked at him. He knew she was into him, no matter how much older he was then her. "Christ," he thought to himself, "she's old enough. She's 25, she knows what she wants. It isn't like I'm old enough to be her father." He would tell himself any time he would catch her looking at him.

"Rebecca, have you heard anything?" Jill asked.

"No. In fact, this is the first I have seen of you three in about the same time. You really shouldn't be strangers around here you know." Rebecca said as she sat down next to Jill.

"It's not like we haven't been wanting to come here. It's just that…" Chris paused.

"It's just that, when she turned up missing, we weren't sure if it was safe to be seen again." Sherry finished for him.

"You still don't think she was taken do you? Because, I highly doubt that after everything we have been through, it isn't possible." Rebecca said firmly.

"You do realize that we were blamed for the murder of Senator Denton right?" Jill said staring at Rebecca with piercing eyes.

"No, radicals were blamed for his murder." Rebecca said, getting up.

"Then what are we?" Sherry asked her.

"Ex-militia." Rebecca answered as she walked back to her bar and behind the counter.

The night was winding down and people were slowly shifting out after Rebecca announced last call at 2:15. The last person, other than Rebecca's friends still in the building was Randy. He was just sitting at his table, alone. This wasn't uncommon for him. He had been coming into Steve's Bar ever since it opened. Well, ever since he saw that the owner was an attractive female, who happened to be an ex-cop. Just about every night he would come in, sometimes just to sit and visit with some of the regulars without drinking. Some nights, he would come in and have way too many and begin to constantly beg Rebecca to let him take her out. Even through all the declined invitations, he kept at it hoping that one day, she would eventually crack.

"Ok lover boy, time to go." Rebecca said to him as she started to take away the empty bottles from his table.

"Oh c'mon, Becca, just one more? Please? For the road." He stammered

"I think you have had enough for tonight." She said helping him up and towards the door. She put his arm around her and walked him to the door slowly. She was careful not to bump him into the other tables and the pool tables. She finally got him to the door and with her other free hand, flipped the open sign off and then opened the door for him.

"You didn't drive tonight did you Randy?" She asked him.

"No dear, I walked." He said.

"Good, now listen, go home, get some rest. I will see you tomorrow." She said to him.

"Ok …" he started, cutting himself off quickly to let out a small hiccup. "then we can talk about that date." He finished.

"Just get some rest. I will think about it." Rebecca said to him as he walked out the door, stumbling. As soon as she watched him turn the corner in the rain she quickly shut the door and locked it. She pushed a couple chairs up against the door and walked back over to the three people still left in the bar. She stopped to bring a few more bottles of beer over and sat down.

"Ok listen, I've been thinking," she started, "what if she was kidnapped?" she asked.

"Becca, if she was kidnapped, then there would be a way of telling." Sherry said lazily.

"Not necessarily. Did she ever say her supposed informant was?"

"No" Chris said. "But she knew the dangers of going alone to that abandoned facility. Shit, I was amazed to see that Seattle even had an Umbrella facility." He finished as he took a swig of his beer.

"It wasn't open for very long. It was closed just shortly after the Raccoon City was destroyed and the President went public cutting Umbrella's threads." Jill said.

"You don't think that Leon knew anything about it did you?" Rebecca asked as she lit up a cigarette. In fact, it wasn't just her that lit one up. Jill and Chris both lit one up. Sherry was the only one that didn't smoke. She was the only one with any brains, at least that was what she had been told by Claire.

"If Leon knew something, surely he would have said something." Sherry said, as she waved some of the smoke from her face. "Besides, nobody has been able to get in touch with him since we last saw him. He is rather busy." She added.

"It just seems too strange. Senator Denton found dead in the abandon facility, Claire's informant, her missing. Senator Denton was a big supporter of Bio-technology and then he is found dead? It just doesn't add up at all." Chris said as he put his smoke out.

The three of them sat in silence for the next few minutes as they finished their beer. Occasionally, Rebecca would bring up other theories of what she thought might have happened. They all had a good laugh when she said she thought she and Leon went off to Vegas to elope. They talked long into the rest of the evening and into the early morning hours as they all worked together to restock the bar and clean it up. It wasn't until 4 when they finally got everything finished and all headed off home. Sherry and Rebecca were in one car and Chris and Jill followed behind them as they headed home to rest and hear word from their missing compatriot.

_6 months later…_

"Leon, the director will see you now." Said the secretary as she put down her phone.

Leon Kennedy quickly stood up and walked into the doors in front of him. He shut them and was greeted by the director of the CIA, Steven Dawson and the Vice President, Roger Timbel. Both men stood up and rushed over to greet him.

"Leon, nice to see you again. Hope the wait wasn't too long." Dawson said as he stuck out his hand.

"No, not too long. Could've waited longer." He replied as he shook back.

"I trust you know Vice President Timbel?" said Dawson.

"We've met." Leon said as he shook hands with the Vice President.

"Mr. Kennedy. Nice to see you again. Why don't you go ahead and have a seat. Can't say how grateful the president and his family are of your actions a few years ago." Vice President Timbel said rushingly.

"My services were required and I did my job." Leon replied harshly. He stared at the man who set him into the hell hole that was Europe. He was not happy with him for this. Of course the orders came directly from the President, but it was the Vice President that handed them to Leon and warned him not to try anything funny. "Who does this guy think I am? A traitor?" Leon had remember saying when he left the building to get on his plane.

"Right. Well we have some business to attend to and we thought you might be able to give us some of your insight and possibly your assistance." Timbel said to him.

"Ok, but I am not quite sure I can be of any help really. I still don't know why I was called in on my day off. In full dress no less." Leon said snidely. He remembered it perfectly. Home from a long day of work following the President's daughter around, her personal bodyguard, constantly for 12 hours. Then sitting down to have a few beers and finally a good night of rest. He had not planned on getting up for anything. Until a phone call on his cell phone woke him up at 6:30 and told him to be there in 2 hours. Then having to wait another hour just for some stupid meeting in which his service was required? Talk about a shitty day off.

"Leon, what do you know about Umbrella?" The Vice President asked. This hit Leon from out of left field and he was dumbstruck. It was obvious because it took him a second to respond.

"Umbrella, sir?" He asked, just to make sure he was correct in what he thought he heard.

"Yes, Umbrella. What do you know about them?" Timbel asked again.

"Sir, not to be rude, but have you read my file?" Leon asked him.

"Mr. Vice President, Mr. Kennedy here was one of the survivors of the Raccoon City fallout in 1998. He was a rookie cop, first day on the force." Dawson interjected. "He has since moved on from that experience as you well know." Dawson added.

"I understand that. Then he must also know that Umbrella is no more." The Vice President said as he looked back over to Leon.

"Yes sir, I do. Happened just a few years after the city was eradicated by the President. There were some radicallistic movements shortly after the city was destroyed, trying to expose Umbrella and the United States government in some sort of conspiracy." Leon said. He still hadn't figured out why the Vice President was asking him about Umbrella. They were no more. At least he thought they were no more. Nothing had become of them since. The next thought that crossed his mind was Claire and everyone else's safety. He still hadn't let anyone know where they were. He was going to keep that secret with him to the grave. He hadn't talked to Claire in almost six months and still couldn't reach her. He had hoped that Jill or Chris might have tried to contact him, but, every time he tried to get through to them, he couldn't.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking," Leon started, "but what exactly is going on? What does this all have to do with me?" He finished.

"Leon, we seem to be having a little problem here." Dawson said. "Do you know anyone named Clinton Portis?"

"No sir. The name doesn't ring a bell." Leon answered still confused. "Is it someone of importance?" he asked this time to the Vice President.

"Well, yes and no. You see Leon, Clinton Portis is an ex CIA field agent. 3 years ago, he was on assignment in Chicago, assisting with a supposed terrorist cell and vanished. Nobody has seen him since. Then all of a sudden, last Sunday, a man by the name of Clinton Portis, flashed is ID badge at a receptionist for clearance to see a patient at some mental hospital in Seattle. Perhaps you know her, Claire Redfield?" The Vice President had struck a nerve with Leon. He knew he had. He could instantly tell by the Leon's blank and ghost faced stare.

This explained why he wasn't able to get a hole of Claire. He had hoped nothing bad had happened to her. He hoped she wasn't hurt or dead. He knew that deep down, she wasn't dead, but the fact that she was in some mental hospital wasn't great either. Leon just stared at the wall for a second before directing his attention to the Vice President and Director Dawson. It took him a moment before he could speak. When he did, he cleared his throat.

"What about Claire Redfield?" he asked. He thought it was a dumb question, but it was all he could think of.

"Are you or are you not romantically involved with her?" Timbel asked.

"I don't see what business that is of yours. It's nobody's business what I do in my personal life." Leon snapped.

"Oh you are quite wrong." Timbel replied.

"Leon, just because you have a personal life, doesn't mean the government doesn't keep tabs on its best agents. There is nothing that can be hidden from us when it comes to our own people." Dawson said to him sympathetically.

"Then why couldn't you keep an eye on Portis? Wasn't he some sort of specialist then?" Leon asked now getting furious.

"It's not like we didn't try. But once he disappeared, he dropped off of our radar. We thought he was dead. In fact, he was listed MIA." Dawson said.

"Leon, do you have any idea whey Ms. Redfield would be in a mental hospital? Did she do something wrong." Vice President Timbel asked him. Somehow, Leon knew there was more to this story than what was being said.

"No, she was perfectly healthy." Leon answered without a doubt.

"And you know about the late Senator Denton as well? How about Ms. Redfield supposedly being connected to his murder?" Timbel asked again.

"You know, for someone who thinks he knows a lot about people, you really make shitty small talk." Leon replied smartly.

"Now listen here you little pissant. If you think for one second you can try to throw me for a loop, think again!" Timbel replied hotly.

"Oh yeah, looks like a little loop throwing would do you some good." Leon said as he made a reference to Timbel's portly appearance.

"Why you son of a bit…!" Timbel was cut off by Dawson.

"Now gentleman. Leon, it would be wise to not address the Vice President that way. Mr. Vice President, perhaps you can explain to him where you were going with all of this." Dawson said trying to calm everyone down.

"Yes please. I want to know why the fuck you drug me in here on my day off." Leon shot out.

"You want to know? Fine, listen up cowboy. Clinton Portis, as I stated before seems to have paid your little _lover _a visit with an unidentifiable male. Seems Portis, drugged her. Got her talk about something. Shortly after that, she went into a seizure. The video tape, showed Portis using some rather, unjustifiable methods to get her to talk. We still aren't sure what she talked about, but we know that the reason she was committed in the first place was because she kept spouting something off about Umbrella being back in business. Add that to the fact that she was found snooping around an abandoned Umbrella building in Seattle and the fact she was found standing over Senator Denton's body. You have yourself something that just reeks of sleaze. Now would you happen to know anything about that? Or has your little rescue mission a few years ago made you mental?" Timbel finished red faced and huffing.

Leon stared at him for a minute. His eyes were wide. Had he not been rational, he might have thought about punching this man's sorry ass in the face. He then directed his attention to Director Dawson who was looking intensively at him, waiting for some sort of an answer.

"No sir. Absolutely no idea." Leon answered matter of factly.

"You wouldn't be lying to me. Would you?" the Vice President asked gazing at him fiercely.

"No sir. I don't know why. I do have a question though. Who was this other person with Portis? Why did nobody talk to him?" Leon asked.

"We aren't sure but we have our speculations. That isn't important right now. What is, is what she told him." He said.

"So what are you asking me to do?" Leon asked. With that, Director Dawson stood up from his desk and walked around to face Leon. He reached behind him and grabbed a file off of his desk and threw it in Leon's lap. Leon didn't waste any time and opened it. Inside were various documents on Clinton Portis, a dossier and a few photos of him as well as a few photos of Claire. There was also CD-Rom disc which was labeled 'Redfield Interrogation'. Leon held it up and then looked at Dawson.

"Effective immediately Leon, you have been reassigned. You leave for Seattle tomorrow morning. You are to find out what Clinton Portis wanted with Ms. Redfield and what she told them. With any luck, since she is still denying the murder of Senator Denton, it might help us find out who may have really did it. Also, we want you to find out why she was snooping around the Umbrella facility in Seattle. This is strictly confidential. Not a word to anyone. You report to only myself or the Vice President. No back up. Sort of black ops, hush, hush, if you get my drift. Do you understand?" Dawson finished staring back down at Leon through his bifocals.

"Yes sir." Leon started, "But I don't understand what you are hoping to find." He finished.

"Just the truth. Something seems to be brewing in the nest pot of Bio-Chemical Engineering. Plus with President Graham being up for reelection this year, we don't need any other incidents." The Vice President responded as he stood up. Leon stood up as well and turned around to leave the room, but was quickly stopped by Timbel's pudgy hand on his shoulder.

"Leon, I trust you will be extremely professional in this matter and not let your personal feelings for Ms. Redfield get in the way. Think of it this way, she's expendable after you get what you need from her. If she causes problems, take care of the situation. No ands, ifs or buts. Understood?" he said to Leon sternly.

"Are you asking me to kill my girlfriend when this is all over?" Leon asked as he started to get pissed off again.

"No son. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." He replied as he took his hand off Leon's shoulder and sat back down.

Leon headed for the door and left the office. He made his way out of the building thinking about everything he had just heard. Did Claire really kill Senator Denton? Why was she still snooping around in an Umbrella facility? Why was she still chasing after something that was no more? What did she tell Clinton Portis and who the hell is he and what the hell did he do to her? Who the hell was this other unidentifiable male that was watching all of this? Leon had way to many questions he wanted answered and somehow knew, that with this assignment, it was going to turn out with only one possible solution; someone isn't going to make it out of this alive.


	3. Chapter 3

Clinton Portis hated stakeouts. Just the sheer fact of sitting somewhere and watching someone or something alone when nothing was going on, was stupid. He didn't understand why he always had to do it. Then again, he was the acting agent in charge, there for, instead of having someone else do it, that might possibly screw it up, it was better that he did it.

He had been in Chicago for almost 3 years following this case. It seemed like the same old story to him. Some mob boss was supposedly bribing a leading member of the Senate, using aggressive negotiation practices in getting what he wanted. The Senator, for fear of being caught and brought to the attention of the public's eye, decided it would be best to have this situation rectified by having the authorities take care of his little problem. Portis hated it. It was always the same. He never got to draw his gun, something that he always wanted. He remembered being told by one of his former instructors that it was not something you should ever want to do, unless it was necessary. But oh the power. This was something Clinton Portis dreamed of. He felt he was halfway there with being a very outstanding agent, but realized that the only way he would get the other half, was by following the rules.

"This really blows." He said as he just sat looking out his motel window looking down onto the street. The video cameras had been rolling non-stop for the past 8 hours and it was just about time to change them. Portis noticed this and began to get out another set of tapes and quickly replaced them and labeled the old ones.

"Ok, 11:45 P.M. and not a creature is stirring, not even a …" he stopped as he looked down to the street and saw something that caught him off guard. Down on the street, two black limousines had turned around the corner and pulled up to a stop in front of the building he was watching next door. Clinton, not wasting anytime, grabbed a set of binoculars and peered out them to see what was going on.

The door's to both of the cars had opened up and out stepped, from the one in front, a man dressed all in black with black sunglasses on. He walked to the other car behind him and stood there looking around, like he was watching his back. From the other car, a slightly shorter and portlier man stepped out wearing a long black overcoat, which was covering a suit and tie. Portis instantly identified this man as mob boss Alfonso Tuttelino. The two men stood there talking and looking around. Both car doors shut and they sped off around the corner. The men continued talking as Portis watched on.

"I really don't understand why the Senator didn't come himself. It's not right." Tuttelino said.

"As I said before, the Senator is very busy in Seattle right now. Things are looking up, but not without your help. He wanted to come, but figured he would send his best. Therefor, you have me." The other man dressed in black said to him harshly.

"Now, if you please, I really don't like to get wet, can we please take this inside?" The man asked Tuttelino.

"Yes, Yes. We can have a drink. Something tells me that I am going to be needing one." He said nervously.

Portis watched them head inside and put down his binoculars. He sat there for a second, pondering what he had just seen. Something about the man in black had made Tuttelino extremely nervous and scared. This had to have been serious because not many things will make a mob boss extremely concerned. At least, this was what Portis had thought. In fact, he was right. He knew he was right. He just needed to get into that building to see what was going on. He just wasn't sure if he should. 'Calling for backup, might actually be a good thing to do right now.' He thought to himself. He stared out at the window again, waiting to see any more signs of life.

"Screw it." He said as he grabbed his gun from the bed and placed it in his holster behind his back. He threw on a light jacket to conceal his weapon and grabbed his cell phone and headed out his motel room door. His strides were swift and rushed. He wanted to get down there and find out exactly what was going on and who this other man was. He still wasn't too sure if this was a smart idea but hey, at least maybe he would get an accommodation out of it, if not a medal.

He quickly threw open the front doors of the motel and ran across the street through the rain. He was remembering his training so he wouldn't be seen but he quickly threw that aside when he noticed that there was absolutely nobody outside at all. He ran up to the small office building and looked through the window. There were a few lights on inside in the back but nothing else. He ducked quickly when he saw someone coming from the back to look out the window. He crouch walked to the other side and peered his head up to see. The man looked like he was turning around to leave and just as Portis was about to stand up, the door unlocked and he quickly ducked again. The door flung open and the man came out and lit up a cigarette. He was completely unaware of Portis knelt down behind him.

Seizing his opportunity, just as the man took a drag, Portis got up and wrapped his arms around the guys neck and quickly squeezed till the man went unconscious. He held onto him as he moved him around the corner, into the alleyway, dropping him by a dumpster. He searched his pockets for some sort of identification but did not find anything.

"Hired goon? Doesn't look like one of Tuttelino's men. What the hell is going on here?" he said as he got up and crept back around the corner and into the office building. He stayed low to the ground as he came around a small corner to where the lights were coming from. He stopped right outside a room where the men from the car were talking.

"So what exactly do you want from me?" Portis heard Tuttelino's voice first.

"The Senator just wants your assurance that nobody will find out what is really going on." The other voice said.

"He already has my assurance. Nobody knows anything."

"So they why is there someone across the street watching this building?" The voice asked him sternly.

"Oh that, that is nothing. At one point or another, there is always someone watching us. It's just strange that someone is watching now, when we haven't seen anything for about 6 weeks. Not since the Senator was here that is." Tuttelino said with no fear in his statement.

"Then if it isn't a problem, why is the Senator worried? I really don't think you realize what we are trying to accomplish here. If this plan succeeds, then you won't have to worry about any more of these little runts trying to stall your business." The voice replied.

Portis thought about this for a moment. Had they always knew someone was watching them? How could they have possibly known that they had been watching them for 6 weeks? Someone couldn't have told them, could they? No, it isn't possible, he thought as he shook his head. He was the best. At least he thought he was the best. He knew he needed to get to the bottom of this, but what Senator were they talking about? Could it be the same Senator that Tuttelino was bribing?

"Honestly, I don't know why Denton puts up with you in the first place. Had you been working for me, you would have already been dead by now." The voice said again, annoyed.

"Aha, my friend, that's just the thing, I do not work for you and I do not appreciate you disrespecting me in my own office." Tuttelino said getting angry.

"You may not work for me, but rest assured, Senator Denton has extremely powerful friends. Much more powerful then the ones guarding this place. It will only be a matter of time before you see what is really going to happen." The voice said this time, with what seemed like glee in his voice.

"Enough of this dancing around the table shit. I want to know what is wanted from me. Assurance or no assurance, there is something else. That is the only reason why the Senator didn't come himself." Tuttelino said getting very annoyed.

"It is obvious that patience is not a virtue with you. I'm growing tired of our meeting." The man started. Portis had now turned his head around the corner to see inside the room. He got a better look at the man in black that was reaching into his back pocket and now pulling out what looked like a disc.

"The contents of this disc are extremely valuable. Trust that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands." The man said as he handed it to Tuttelino.

"What's on it?" Tuttelino asked as he took the disc.

"Everything that you will need to make sure that nobody messes with out plans. Use it well and use it wisely. If someone finds out you have it, the Senator will be very angry and our next visit will not be as pleasant. You do know how to use a computer don't you?" The man asked snidely.

"Yes, yes. I understand." Tuttelino said as he placed it into his desk drawer. Clinton was staring and wondering what exactly it was that made that disc so important. He knew he needed to get it, but how? He had figured that when he got another open chance, he would call in a search warrant and have the placed scourged. He knelt there for a few more minutes to keep listening.

"Now, I trust you have something for the Senator as well?" The man asked.

"Yes, just a second." Tuttelino said as he rose up from his chair and walked back to a picture behind him. He opened it up and started to enter a number on the keypad. He stopped and positioned himself so that the man behind him couldn't see him. This made the man in black laugh some and run a hand through his blonde hair. Tuttelino finally opened the safe and pulled out a small bag. He closed the safe and set the bag on the desk. The man in black quickly counted it.

"350,000 correct?" Tuttelino asked.

"Yes. It's all here. Pleasure doing business with you. Remember, if something happens to that disc that displeases the Senator, I will make another visit and…" the man pauses and turns his head.

"What? What is it?" Tuttelino asked.

"Seems we are not alone. Who else knows about this meeting?" the man asked.

"Nobody. I swear on my mothers grave." Tuttelino replied nervously. Portis noticed that the man had turned his head and caught a glimpse of his face. He caught a glimpse of his eyes and they were bright red. The man turned his head back around and Clinton quickly got up to make a hasty retreat.

He had just opened the door when three shots rang out from behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks. He looked down at his chest and saw three small red dots begin to grow redder and redder. He could now finally feel the sting of the lead in his back and chest as he slumped down to the ground. He tried to pull out his cell phone to dial for help but another shot rang out and the bullet pierced his arm making him drop his phone. He lay there, clutching his arm with his other hand and turned over on his back. He started to cough and a little splatter of blood left his mouth and landed on his cheek. It was warm. There was something about feeling your own blood on your face that made him extremely scared. He knew he was going to die. His entire body felt cold as ice.

He opened his eyes in just enough time to see Tuttelino standing over him and the blonde haired man in black standing over him with a pistol still smoking in his hand. The man was smiling evilly at him. Clinton didn't like it, but what could he do about it. He thought he was as good as dead. Visions of his life started to pass before his eyes. His life wasn't what he had necessarily wanted it to be. He never married. He was still single. His childhood flew by, graduating high school and college popped up, his first case for the FBI and then transferring to the CIA. Even the cute red head he had an encounter with in his motel room popped back into his head. He was never going to get to experience that again. Or so he though.

"What are you waiting for? He heard everything. Kill him now!" Tuttelino yelled as he looked down at him. Clinton was shifting his hazy gaze between both men. Trying to save what was left in his lungs for air.

"No. I have better use for him." The man said as he holstered his weapon and knelt down by Clinton's side.

"Better use for him? He's a government agent. His partners will come for him! Kill him!" Tuttelino shouted. As he finished the man stood up and looked at the angered mob boss. He shot him a look with his now red glowing eyes.

"Ok…fine. Just get him out of here." The boss said nervously as he looked around.

The limousine came back around the corner to pick up the blonde haired man. Clinton turned his head to see it pull up and then back over to the blonde haired man who was now reaching down at him and lifting him up with unprecedented strength. Just before he blacked out, he felt himself get tossed onto the floor of the car and hearing the door speed off down the road.

"Nosing in our affairs you say Albert." Said a voice familiar to Clinton who was now coming too slightly.

"Yes sir. I thought he might be of some use to us." Wesker said.

"Well, as much as I may not like the situation, I do believe that he might be a good test subject. Take him to the lab and inject him. I want you to give him some of your blood as well." The voice said.

"But sir, do you think that would be a wise choice? That may be way too much for his cell count to handle." Wesker said confused.

"Don't worry about it. It won't kill him. It will just give him some…" the voice paused, "wonderful side effects that he will be able to use to his advantage. Now, do it. Don't be late. Keep me informed. I have a hearing to attend to." The voice said as it trailed off.

"Yes sir, Senator Denton." Wesker said again this time wheeling the gurney that Clinton was laying on down the hall and into a lab. Wesker looked down at Clinton and smiled evilly again. He noticed that Clinton had a frightened look on his face.

"Don't worry Mr. Portis. When this is all over. You will feel power like you have never felt before. After all, that is what you have wanted most of all isn't it?" Wesker finished as the doors of the lab shut behind them.

When Clinton Portis woke up completely he found that he had absolutely no scars or wounds on his body at all. In fact, he felt perfectly fine. He was rather overcome with joy at this. Clinton tried to stand up but couldn't move at all. His entire body was numb and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't move his arms or legs an inch. He just looked around the room with his head, which was the only thing that would move and tried to come to grips with his surroundings. He wondered if his colleagues had known that he had gone missing when he didn't report. But something inside him, told him to forget about that. It told him to be angry with them. Something was making him hate them. In fact, it wanted him to kill them.

"Well, well. It's about time my little guinea pig came to." Said Senator Denton through a window in front of Clinton.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" Clinton asked.

"Oh nothing. Just gave you a little pick me up. You should be thanking me. Albert almost killed you. You should be lucky he didn't. You will soon realize why you're lucky." Denton said again.

"I know who you are." Clinton said to the man behind the window.

"Good, then you won't mind helping me out with a little situation then." The Senator said smiling.

"What kind of situation?" Clinton asked him.

"Oh just some pesky little flies that seem to be hovering around my pig's slop. I don't like flies. They are pesky and bothersome. These particular flies have been bothersome for quite longer than needed. I want you and Albert here to take care of them for me." Denton said this time as he entered the room.

"What did you do to me? Why am I here?" Clinton asked him, this time slowly realizing he could move his arms.

"You have been injected with an experimental drug I like to call, Meticulan. This particular drug, reacts to your genetic make up and fixes any and all deficiencies to your system. Makes you stronger, faster, more powerful. It makes you realize your full potential as a human being and will help you do things that only god could do. Also, you have been transfused with some of Albert Wesker's blood. I won't go into any details about the types of drugs and viruses that were in there, but I will tell you that when they react to Meticulan, well…let's just say you can find that out for your own." Denton said as he stood next to Portis.

"So you've poisoned me then?" Clinton this time asked as he felt his legs move.

"Far more than poisoned. If you prove to react to the drugs as expected, then my little problems in the senate will be rectified. Now, if you are finished, I've decided to spare your life. Normally, I wouldn't let Albert pass up an opportunity to kill someone who got in my way but, I find that your skills in the CIA and your training will help prove useful. For now get some rest. 4 hours from now, Wesker will come and get you up to date on our present situation." Denton said as he turned around and started to head out the door.

"And if I refuse to help you?" Portis asked him as he cleared his throat.

"Something tells me Mr. Portis, that once you hear what has been happening around here, you will want to help us." And with that, Senator Denton left the room and Clinton laying there to figure out exactly what the hell was going on.


	4. Chapter 4

Leon's rental car pulled into the parking garage and came to a stop. He got out and put on his jacket and grabbed his leather bag. He locked his doors and began walking down the garage towards the entrance and stopped to take a look at the weather. It was raining. It wasn't surprising that it was, this after all was the time of year when it rained the most in Seattle. He just hadn't planned on it being as cold as it was.

"I'm so glad I don't live here." He said as he made his way to the door and walked inside. He walked down a few flights of stairs and ended up in the lobby of the hospital. The first thing he noticed were the bars on the windows. It didn't look much like a hospital, but more like a prison. Thoughts were still racing around in his head as he headed to the help desk. Why was Claire here? What exactly did she do? Were the others aware of her situation? Were the others even still alive? He approached the elderly looking woman at the desk and placed his bag up on the desk beside him.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asked.

"Yes, I'm Leon Kennedy, here to see Dr. Tomlinson." He replied.

"May I ask what this is about?" she asked him eyeing him and then his bag.

"It's about one of his patients. Claire Redfield. I'm with the federal government." He answered her as he picked his bag up and set it down on the floor.

"If you don't mind, before I let you in, I need to see some identification and you will have to sign this form here for your visitor pass." She said as she handed him a small clipboard and clip on badge. Leon pulled his badge out from his pocket and showed her and then signed the paper. He placed his pass on his coat and stood aside as he called for the doctor.

As he waited, Leon began to look at the various doctors' pictures on the walls and the dedication of the newest wing, the "G" wing to the hospital. It had been established 3 years ago with an unveiling ceremony by Washington States own Senator Denton. Leon found this extremely intriguing and was just getting into looking at the picture and reading about the ceremony when someone came up behind him and spoke.

"Agent Kennedy? I'm Dr. Tomlinson. Hope your trip was fine." Said the older looking gentleman. Leon whipped around and shook hands with the man. 'Looks like your typical ass.' Leon thought. He was only making this assumption based off of the thousand dollar watch on the doctor's left wrist, the slightly gray slicked back hair that looked like someone was trying to hide his actual age and the cell phone and beeper hidden under his coat.

"I hate flying. Makes me anxious. I prefer driving, but unfortunately the Federal Government doesn't seem to trust sending there people out on a bus or a car. They prefer airplanes." Leon said to him giving a slight chuckle.

"Yes, I prefer the ground myself. Trains are the best. Especially when you get your own car." He started. "I trust you are here because of last weeks incident?" Tomlinson asked as they began to walk down the hall and into another corridor.

"I am. There are a lot of questions I would like to ask you before I see the patient. Can we get some privacy?" Leon asked.

"Sure, my office is just down this way." The doctor said happily as they rounded the corner into yet again another corridor. They finally stopped in front of a metal gated door and were buzzed through. Leon took notice of this and saw that there was only one guard in the small little room watching the monitors and Leon. Leon just nodded to him and the guard did nothing as he followed Dr. Tomlinson into an office.

"Here we are. Go ahead, take a seat." The doctor said as he shut the door behind him.

"Thank you. Is everyone here always this friendly?" Leon asked him with some concern in his voice.

"Only when we know someone from the government is coming. Trying to put our best foot forward. Make this place seem better than what it really is." Tomlinson said as he sat down in his chair and leaned back.

"What is that exactly?" Leon asked him.

"A hell hole. I won't lie to you Agent Kennedy. There is only so much we can do for people who are mentally gone. You can try to keep them calm and be friendly and nice with them, but once they cross the point of no return. It's hopeless." The doctor answered him with care in his voice.

'Maybe this guy isn't as bad as I thought.' Leon said to himself. Then again how could you not find ways to help someone who is obviously in need of help? Surely there had to be something you could do. Leon thought it was best not to get into that with the doctor and turned his attention to the matters at hand.

"Dr. Tomlinson, what do you know exactly about the man that was here last week?" Leon asked him pulling out a file from his bag.

"Nothing more than what I told your superiors. Janice at the help desk said a good looking man came in and flashed a CIA badge and asked to see one of our prisoners. He said it was something about a federal case having to do with the Senator's death. I didn't think that much of it. Figured it was just another routine situation. There was something odd about his company though. There was another man with him that seemed disturbing. He didn't say anything. He just looked around constantly and seemed like he was always aware of his surroundings. He just wanted to watch. I thought it was this agents boss. But something just didn't seem right about him." Tomlinson said as he took out a cigarette and lit it up. He motioned to Leon who just waved it off.

"What did this other man look like?" Leon asked him.

"Oh I say he was about 6 feet tall, extremely athletic. I didn't get a good look at his eyes because he was wearing dark sunglasses but he did have blonde hair." The doctor said taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing up into the fan above them. Leon knew who this man was. He knew it was Wesker. But the main question was, how could Wesker still be alive and what exactly was he doing here, in Seattle.

"About how long did this 'agent' visit the patient?" Leon said as he smartly emphasized the word agent.

"Not longer than 35 minutes." The doctor replied.

"Doctor, was there anything funny about the patient when they left?" Leon asked him as he now opened up his folder and took out a couple of pictures.

"Other than when she went in there, she was awake. When the orderlies went in to get her, she was unconscious. It was the weirdest thing. On the tape, she was just fine, then…well you have seen the tape haven't you?" Tomlinson asked him as he put his cigarette out now and looked at Leon with nervous eyes.

"Yes I have." Leon swallowed. He saw what that bastard did to her. He saw exactly what his hands had did to her. He wanted to kill Clinton Portis. He wanted to make him wish he had never been born.

"I don't care who you are, but no female should ever have to be put through that." The doctor said looking at him.

"Doctor, if you thought there was something wrong, why didn't you get in touch with us sooner?" Leon asked him as he was fixing his gaze back on the doctor.

"We honestly didn't think it was something to be too concerned about. If they were here for a federal matter, we step aside and don't ask questions. It's policy. All state, local and government officials are allowed in the building, no questions asked." Tomlinson said as he lit up another cigarette.

"Doctor, I want to show you these pictures. I want you to tell me if this is the same man. Just for verification." Leon said as he tossed the pictures up onto the desk towards the doctor.

Tomlinson picked them up and stared at them. One of the pictures was of Clinton Portis standing with his classmates at the FBI for a graduation photo. The other was of Portis when he moved to the CIA. The last, was a still from the surveillance tape that showed him looking up at the camera. A shiver ran down Tomlinson's spine. This was the same man he had seen. But what significance did this have with his patient. What was going on around here.

"Agent Kennedy, I'm going to be honest with you. I really do no know who this person is or why he was here questioning my patient and why he did to her what he did? But in order to try and help you, I need to know exactly what is going on." Tomlinson said as he placed the photos back down on the desk.

"Doctor, I'm afraid that most of it is confidential. What I can tell you is who this person is. The man in that photo there is a CIA agent that went missing three years ago. Just around the time the new wing was built in this hosptial. His whereabouts were completely unknown until now, last week he shows up to question one of your patients and walks out unquestioned with the patient unconscious." Leon said to him. This caught the doctor off guard and wasn't sure exactly what to make of it. He was a little taken aback at the statement and had almost decided on taking it as a personal shot, but quickly let that go because of the seriousness of this Clinton Portis person.

"Mr. Kennedy, I assure you, had we have seriously thought there was a problem, we would have informed someone immediately. It wasn't until the guards looked at the tape and informed me and the management of what happened in that room." The doctor started, "In fact, there is something you might find interesting. But I need to find it. I'm sure you would like to see the patient now?" he finished with his question as he stood up and walked to the door.

"Yes I would. It is rather important." Leon said trying to hide his anger and happiness. He was going to see her. He was going to see Claire. He wanted to do nothing but hold her in his arms and tell her things were going to be all right. But he had a job to do first and foremost. Regardless of personal feelings, he needed to do this.

"If you will follow me Mr. Kennedy, I will escort you to her room. I trust you will want some privacy with her so if you need anything, the guards will be right outside." Tomlinson said as Leon stood up and followed him out the door.

Claire was asleep. She wasn't dreaming. She was just laying there motionless. At first glance, one might think she was dead. She wasn't though. Her chest was rising and falling and her nostrils were flaring ever softly with every breath. She was startled awake at the sound of someone banging on her door and a set of keys jingling in the lock. She quickly stood up out of bed and ran to the corner to kneel down like she was awaiting impending doom. She covered her head with her forearms and waited. When nothing happened she slowly started to lift her head up and opened her eyes to see a familiar face.

"Hello beautiful." Leon said softly as he took a step toward her. Claire at first didn't realize it was him. She blinked her eyes to get them to fixate on him and she began sobbing as she leaped up and ran over to him.

"I knew you would come. Somehow, I knew you would find me." She said with tears of joy as her sobs were making her speech somewhat jumpy.

"Easy now. You're all right. I'm here." Leon said as he softly stroked her head. He almost cried a few tears himself. He was extremely happy to see her and the emotions in his head were dancing around in circles. A bomb could have killed them both right there and he would not have cared. He was with the person he loved.

"Are…have you…come to get me out of here?" Claire asked as she kissed him on the lips and looked deep into his eyes.

"Claire, I want nothing more than to help you get out of this place. But right now I can't." He said as he let go of her. She looked into his eyes as she backed away and she knew what was going on in an instant. She walked over to her small bed and sat down. She was looking at the floor when Leon pulled the chair by the window over to face her and sat in front of her.

"It's business, isn't it? How else would you have found out where I was?" She said to him still looking down to the floor. "I guess a part of me figured you would realize I was missing and then come and find me on some daring rescue mission. But the other part of me knew that if you did come, it would be business." She finished this time looking up at him with her eyes still wet and red.

"Claire, I wanted to come here and find you. I had absolutely no idea what happened to you. I couldn't find you. I couldn't even get a hold of Chris and the others. Every time I tried, I couldn't get through. So don't believe it's not just about business ok? I don't need that right now." Leon said as he gave her a comforting look. They just stared at each other for a few minutes locked in each other's gaze. This was one of the moments that true love was all about. These were the reasons it was worth going the extra mile for.

"I need to know what happened Claire. I need you to tell me what you told Clinton Portis." Leon said as he switched his mood from caring to business.

"You know him?" She asked.

"Not really. Apparently he _was _CIA." Leon responded.

"What do you mean 'apparently'?" She asked again this time looking confused.

"He went missing three years ago on assignment. Now it looks like he's back flashing his badge around."

"Leon there's something you should know about him." Claire said. "Something isn't right about him. There was something oddly familiar with the way he looked at me." She continued. And so for the next several minutes, she explained to Leon what had happened. She told him about her tip off from the so called informant and finding Senator Denton's dead body and being caught. She explained how she was being interrogated constantly before pleading insanity. Leon thought this was probably the best for her since nobody was believing her about Umbrella being back in business. It was when she got to her meeting with Portis that Leon had the most questions.

"Ok, Umbrella nonsense aside, what did he want to know?" Leon asked her as he took out a small tape recorder.

"For some reason, he wanted to know where Chris and the others were hiding, especially Sherry." She answered as she took out a cigarette from a pack she had hidden under her bed.

"You know you should really quit that." Leon said as he watched her light it up.

"I know, but you've never complained about it before. It's not like you haven't…" she was cut off.

"Claire, back to the point." Leon said.

"Leon, I don't know. He didn't really say much. He promised to get me out of here if I talked. I didn't. Next thing I know, I took a cigarette and after that…things went somewhat fuzzy." She said starting to sob again. Leon knew what was going to come next. He didn't want her to relive it and he didn't want to hear about it, but he had to.

"Then what happened?" Leon asked her, writing down a couple of notes.

"He wanted to play a game with me. He said if I answered correctly to his expectations he would keep his hands away from my…" she paused, "me. If I didn't, he would get closer. I don't think it was about answering the questions right or wrong. He just wanted to do it. Something about his eyes. They were very intoxicating, even with the drugs kicking in. I couldn't help it. I couldn't move. Leon…he…he…did something to me that I will never be able to forget, it was so awful." She said breaking down in tears.

Leon quickly hugged her and then kissed her forehead, he now let out one small tear and then quickly wiped it away with his fingers. They sat there for a few seconds. It was silent, until Claire broke the silence and spoke again.

"I did something wrong, Leon. I told him where they are." She said as she started crying again.

"There, there. Everything is going to be fine. I think the others will be able to take care of themselves. I don't think this guy could hurt them." Leon said.

"You don't understand. He did things I hadn't seen anyone do for years. He was able to manipulate his fingernails and his eyes…they were bright red, just like the stories Chris had told me about Wesker." She said trying to calm herself down. "I don't think they are safe." She finished.

"Listen Claire. I am going to find them. I need to talk to them as well. This is when I use all of my available resources to get to the bottom of the problem. But for the time being, you have to stay here. It's too dangerous for you to be out there right now. Whatever is going on, it is obvious that they are not done with you." Leon said as he kissed her on the lips this time passionately. He let go of her and stood up to put his things back into his bag. She got up and walked to the door with him.

"There is one thing. This informant of yours. How did he contact you?" Leon asked as he knocked on the door.

"E-mail. It was strictly E-mail." She answered him kissing him again.

"I need access to your Laptop, Claire. It's important." Leon said again as the door started to open.

"Fine, find Chris, tell him where I am. Get what you need and get me out of here. I know I can take care of myself Leon, but I am totally helpless right now." She said to him as he started to walk out the door.

"I know, Claire. I know." Leon said as he stepped through the door and out into the hall. He was stopped shortly after by Claire who was calling to him.

"I love you, Leon." She said to him, crying. Leon turned around and gave her a smile. He walked back into the room and gave her the biggest hug and kiss he could and turned around and just before leaving he turned to her and spoke.

"I love you too, Claire." He said as the door to her room shut and she heard the lock click tight.

Leon began his walk back through the guard station and pass Dr. Tomlinson's office. He had just made it back out to the main entrance to the hospital when he was stopped by someone calling his name. He turned around and saw Dr. Tomlinson jogging after him. Leon stood there staring at him, trying not to let his emotions and concern for Claire show as the doctor came up to him, panting.

"Mr. Kennedy, I found something that might interest you." He said as he handed over an envelope.

"What is it?" Leon asked as he took it in his hand.

"Something about those photos of that man got me to thinking. I had seen him somewhere before, I just couldn't put my finger on it. I did some digging in our archives and found this. I think it might be of some assistance to you." Tomlinson said as he wiped his brow and then grabbed his now beeping pager from his belt clip.

"Thank you, I'm sure I will be able to use this." Leon said.

"You're very welcome. If you need anything else, the hospital and I would be happy to help you anytime you ask. Now if you excuse me, I need to head back to work. Lunch break for the patients." Tomlinson said as he turned around and walked away from Leon.

Leon had reached his car now and was taking his jacket off. It was still raining, just not as hard. He quickly sat down and shut the door. He turned the engine on and grabbed the envelope and opened it. Inside was a photograph of the opening of the "G" wing of the hospital a few years ago. In front stood Senator Denton. That wasn't what caught his eye. Right behind the Senator, in the background were two men. Leon recognized them both immediately. The one on the right, his blonde hair slicked back, Albert Wesker. The other, to his left, was none other than Clinton Portis, who was also wearing black sunglasses. Leon quickly checked the entire photograph for any kind of writing. The only thing he saw, was a date. October 24, 2007.

"Impossible," Leon started astonished. "That's exactly 4 days after Portis went missing." He paused. "What the fuck is going on here?" He finished as he threw the photo down on the seat next to him, backed his car from the parking spot and drove off and out of the parking garage to his next destination, Steve's Bar.


End file.
